


Broken Promises

by Whiitewolf



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiitewolf/pseuds/Whiitewolf
Summary: Someone is killing people in Quantico. The BAU hunts a serial killer. The Winchesters, a ghost. What happens when their worlds collide?
Comments: 27
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Hey! I am moving all my works from FanFiction to here. This is my SPN/CM crossover. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> It's set around a year after Haley dies, and around Season 5ish of Supernatural.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr as aprilthegayqueen (I'd love to follow and get to know some of you all!)
> 
> I also just started a prompts forum on fanfiction.net, please check out the link in my profile! It is a way to get reviews, and inspiration.

A yelp escaped Jack Hotchner's mouth. A part of he wanted to scream for his dad. He'd protect him from whatever was in his closest. But he didn't. He wanted to appear courageous, just like his daddy. His dad wouldn't be afraid by something in the closet! Perhaps it was just in his head. He hoped so. He played through in his head what would happen if he asked his dad to come in here. He'd open the closet door, like he always did, and walk inside and tell him nothing was there. Jack's intention was to just skip that step and put on a brave face. Tugging the blankets up to his chin he curled up into a small ball.

The noise startled him again. His eyes wide and fearful, he scanned the room. There did not appear to be anything bad. Gulping a bit, he now pulled the blanket over his head. It seemed to give him some comfort though deep down he knew that if something wanted to hurt him a simple blue blanket wouldn't stop them. _Don't think that... There's nothing in the closet. Dad will just say that you had too much candy, or watched something you shouldn't have. It's okay. You're safe._ Scratching noises came from the door, and his chest felt like it was going to cave in. He couldn't hear as his ears started to ring. Everything sounded so far away, like he had earmuffs on.

He now squeezed his eyes shut. _Daddy won't let anything happen to me._ He took in a few deep breaths and tried to count to ten. He'd just made it to nine and was beginning to feel a bit better. He declared that it must be in his imagination. It was just as he was about to say ten when he heard the noise again. The air chilled and he now clung to his blanket even more. Half out of fear, and half because the temperature had dropped below freezing. He could see his breath.

Should he scream for his dad now? No... He was okay. _Just go to sleep. It's all in your imagination._ He rolled over to his other side. He shivered, not due to the biting cold now in the room but due to fear. Maybe he could run to his dad's room and sleep there, claiming a nightmare. _No._ He wanted to be brave, just like his dad. His dad dealt with bad guys all the time and was never afraid. Would his dad come running in here, scared? He highly doubted it.

The knock at the closet door caused his heart to leap in his chest. A small tear fell down his cheek. In a panic, he jumped out of bed. Quickly, he grabbed a chair and pushed it in front of the closet door. He ran back to the bed as fast as his little feet could carry him.

A few moments of silence. He was okay. His breathing now resumed back to normal. His tired eyes began to close and within seconds he was asleep. _He was okay. His dad wouldn't let anything happen to him._

BANG. The closet door flew open and he sat up, wide eyed and afraid. Within seconds he was screaming for his father, all thoughts of being brave rushing out the window.

***Broken Promises***

"Why did you do that to her?" she hissed, her pale eyes flashing with anger. She paced the room angrily, her hawk-like gaze locking on him when he started inching towards the phone.

"I... I didn't, I didn't do anything. You have the wrong guy!" pleaded the cowardly man now backed into the corner of his bedroom. He trembled, from head to foot. His chin quivered and he found himself unable to meet the woman's gaze. His clumsy hand knocked over the phone.

"How does it feel? How does it feel knowing you're about to die? You abandoned them. They're better off without you," she snapped. She started to pace again, knowing it was only a matter of minutes before this man left this world forever. A smile reached her lips knowing that she was doing the family a favour. The wife would move on. Find someone more suitable.

"No, I swear, I didn't..." he pleaded, his brown eyes filling with terrified tears. He struggled to back up, but the wall stopped him. He was trapped.

"LIAR!" she screeched and then more calmly added, "you can't even admit it, I may as well just kill you." She was so calm and calculated about the whole thing it was as if she'd been doing this for years.

"Okay, okay, I did it... but hear me out," he yelled shrilly. His voice broke, hitting hysteria. "I didn't abandon them. They know that. It was a business meeting. I had to leave. I love them. I do this for them! "

 _Funny, just what he said. He did it for us..._ she thought bitterly. It was all lies. It was what men said when they loved their jobs more than their wives... More than their kids...

"I don't care what you have to say," she said carefully. Her voice now took on a tone of deadly calm and she advanced towards him. "You chose your job over your family. That really shows how much you love them... You're in love with your job and your family suffers for it. "

"Please," he begged as she pulled him up by his throat. "Give me another chance. I'll make it right! I'll quit my job. "

"You didn't even give your family one chance," she snarled. "You don't deserve one either."

The only sound that echoed through the room after that was the pained screams of the man as he had his heart ripped out of his chest _._

He broke his family's hearts by choosing work over them. She broke his heart by tearing it out of his body. It seemed poetic, and completely fair.

***Broken Promises***

Aaron Hotchner had been sitting at his desk looking over some files when he heard the sound any parent dreaded. The screams and cries of his son. _Oh please, not another nightmare._ Jack had being having quite a few since his mother's death over a year ago. It shattered his heart to see and hear his son suffer so much. He tried so hard to push aside what he felt in concern for his son. He knew the adjustment was nearly impossible, and it was made even harder by the fact that he was often away for work.

"Jack?" Hotch called out throwing the boy's door open to run into the room.

Instead of the pale, frightened boy he expected, Jack appeared calm and was sitting on his bed smiling. He grinned up at his dad when he walked in the room.

"Why did you scream?" Hotch said softly, sitting next to his son on the bed. He reached out a comforting hand to his son. Hadn't his son just been screaming a few moments ago?

"I thought a bad person was coming to get me," Jack whispered. He shivered again at the reminder of the fear he had felt. He didn't want to feel like that again.

Before Hotch had a chance to reassure him, Jack's face lit up. "But it's okay!" he said. "It was only mommy. We can be a family again!" Jack was so happy he wriggled with excitement. "She was here. She came to see me."

"Mommy?" Hotch pried gently as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Yes, she was just here," Jack said happily. "She came to see me. Mommy was here."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the kudos, comments and follows to this! They are all appreciated.

"Hotch, I'm sure it's nothing to be concerned about," JJ tried to say comfortingly as she waited for her bagel to be sent over. She'd been a bit confused when Hotch had asked her to meet him at a little place in between their houses on a Saturday before Jack's soccer game. She'd assumed it had something to do with Jack but she hadn't been sure until she got there and her first instinct had been right. Hotch was greatly concerned about his son and what his son claimed to have seen the night before.

Hotch tried to nod his head but he couldn't help but wonder about how Jack would be affected as he grew up. Perhaps it was time to see a child therapist. He had brought Jack to one a week after his mother's death but that had ended a couple months ago. Maybe it was time he went back.

"He lost his mother, of course he wants to see her. It was probably just a dream," JJ said wrinkling her eyebrows together in confusion. She understood why Hotch was worried. If Henry claimed to see someone that had died too, she would be bothered by it too. It was her job as a mother, but she knew that children could see amazing things with a bit of imagination.

"You're probably right," Hotch replied calmly. "I'm sure it's nothing to be worried about." Deep inside, he still felt a nagging feeling, like this wasn't over. He finished off his coffee checking his watch. He had to get back to his son, the game was in an hour.

* * *

"How many dead?" Dean asked snatching the newspaper from Sam's hands. They sat inside a small coffee shop in Richmond, Virginia. Upon entering the shop, Dean had scoffed at the layout. The coffee shop had tried so hard to look like a fancy restaurant, from fancy picturing to expensive table cloths. Him and Sam had taken a window seat so that he could keep an eye on his first love, his black 67 Chevy Impala.

"This is the fifth," Sam replied taking another sip of his coffee. Dean laughed as Sam took the newspaper back. All Dean wanted to do was look at the comics and Sam wanted to work the case. For some reason, this meant reading the same article over and over again, as if some new information would magically appear before him...

"And have the police linked them together yet?" Dean asked, still sulking over the loss of his entertainment.

"I'm not sure," Sam admitted reluctantly. "It doesn't say anything in here." His eyes scanned the article again. The one about the man found with his heart torn out of his chest. It read to be pretty gruesome and the police were stumped on it. There were no finger prints left behind, no signs of a break in and the door was still locked from the inside. Obviously, it wasn't a suicide... Which left him to believe it was their type of case.

Dean nodded but his attention was immediately drawn to the gorgeous, blonde waitress that approached his table. She gave Dean a quick glance and took everything in. She smiled at him, her blue eyes sparkling in excitement.

"Anything I can get for you?" she said, clicking the end of the pen while she made sure to lean down a bit, allowing her shirt to fall slightly.

"Oh god yes," Dean responded before being kicked under the table by Sam.

"I'll take another coffee for me, please," Sam said giving Dean a look. He was not being concerned about the possibility of ruining his brother's morning. As far as he was concerned, they had work to do.

"Oh and I'd like a breakfast bagel please, with extra hashbrowns, and a side of bacon." Dean gave her what he thought was a charming smile. And it worked. The waitress walked away giggling.

"Dean, we can't hang around. We're leaving town after breakfast," Sam lectured. He let out a breath, he wasn't surprised. "So, don't go making any plans. Think with your upstairs brain today."

"I wasn't thinking anything," Dean said though a part of him was sulking "So where are we going anyways?"

"Quantico," Sam answered, still watching his brother carefully. "We're only about 120 miles out."

"Hmm," Dean said thoughtfully, his eyes still on the waitress who was winking at him from behind the counter.

* * *

Hotch sighed after Jack and finally gone to sleep. The game had gone well... They hadn't kept track of score. Well, he had... He silently admitted to himself. He'd kept track of the score until they were five goals behind. Then he stopped. But Jack was surely improving. He couldn't actually believe the growth Jack had made since joining the team not too long ago. Jack had also made a few friends. Which of course caused Hotch to smile and feel some relief. Any parent loves to hear their child is making friends.

He rubbed his eyes a bit as he made his way upstairs with his hot tea in his hand. He didn't feel very tired and had decided on reading a book. For once he had chosen a book unrelated to his job. Often, the only books he read had to do with serial killers, psychology and stuff like that. Tonight he had a fictional novel. It was a change in his routine and he hoped it would pan out.

As usual, he peered into Jack's room on the way to his own and was pleased to see his son sleeping peacefully on the bed, the covers pulled up to his chin. Hotch smiled a bit at the innocence Jack portrayed and closed the door quietly before entering his own room.

Stretching while he pulled the covers up, he listened carefully to make sure Jack was still okay. All was silent, which meant all was well.

The noises of the night surprisingly didn't keep him awake and he fell asleep almost instantly, the book tumbling out of his hand to land on the floor. He probably would have slept through the night had he not been awaken suddenly.

He wasn't sure what woke him but despite the warm summer's night, it was absolutely freezing in his room. He was very confused when he saw his own breath and sat up in his bed. Despite not seeing anyone, he felt like someone was there.

"Jack?" he called out softly. When he heard no response, he reached into his nightstand and pulled out his gun. His eyes scanned the room for any sign of anyone else and that's when he saw her. He could have sworn his heart skipped a beat and the shock hit him so had he nearly dropped the gun.

But there she stood, standing only feet away from him. She was covered in blood. He swallowed slowly. This was insane, but she was there. And she was staring at him.

"Haley?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!   
> Comments and kudos are so appreciated.

"Aaron, are you sure you weren't asleep?" asked the concerned voice of David Rossi turning to face Hotch from where he sat cushioned on the red chair in Hotch's home office space.

"I'm sure," he responded, rubbing his head anxiously. His eyes flickered towards the living room where Jack sat playing with his trains. "Do you think I'm losing it?" Hotch didn't like to admit it. He didn't like others to know that he really was vulnerable, just like any other human. But he needed his friend's help. What he saw last night was not normal and it can't have been real. It forced him to swallow his pride and admit it. He needed help. Rossi was someone he could trust. Someone that he knew he could talk to without risking his job. 

Rossi hesitated and thought carefully before responding. "No, I just think you're under a lot of strain."

Nodding, Hotch buried his head in his hands. "Jack said he saw Haley the night before," he added his eyebrows knitting in concern. As he leaned his head down he pinched the bridge of his nose before meeting Dave's eyes again.

"Well, that makes sense then," Dave said smiling. "Jack got you thinking about Haley, and there you go, you saw her. It all makes perfect sense, Aaron. Maybe you just need some time off. It was probably a dream even. A very vivid dream."

Hotch nodded. It made sense, it had to make sense. "I need to see her," he added.

"Then see her. Maybe visiting her will help you through whatever it is you're feeling." Dave took another sip of his coffee and leaned back, surveying his friend carefully. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, Hotch looked over at Jack again. He was still busy, playing with his toys. "Thanks." It was true. It made sense. He had known talking to Rossi would make him feel better, or find some logic in all this. Perhaps he wasn't crazy. Haley's birthday would have been in a week. He was just remembering. He should go see Haley. It might help him to understand this a bit more. Maybe that was what his subconscious was telling him.

"Anytime," Dave replied.

* * *

"I don't know," Sam trailed off as he ate his chicken caesar salad, slowly. The loud voices in the diner masked their conversation and left them free to talk about their 'mission.'

Dean grimaced at the crunching sound of the salad. What a waste of eating out. "We just got lucky this time," Dean responded through a mouth full of cheese burger. As he was swallowing he shot a look over at the table across from them. A mother, father and two screaming children. Not what he wanted to be listening to. Why did people even bring their children into these places? Well, he'd brought Ben... But that was different. Ben was behaved.

Sam grimaced and looked away. "It seems too easy, Dean. Nothing is every easy for us and you know that."

"We know who the ghost is, we burn her bones, simple. We were bound to get lucky one time," Dean said in between bites. "We deserve to get lucky one time. After all we've been through."

Sam watched his brother act as if he hadn't eaten in days and mixed his salad around a bit. "I guess you're right, but we best be on guard and careful." He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. Cases were so seldom open and close. 

Shrugging, Dean took a sip of his coke. It couldn't hurt to be too careful, but he already had an agenda for tonight after they got rid of the problem. He smirked briefly thinking of that waitress. Although, now he was wondering if it was too easy as well. He cursed Sam in his head, he'd been happy about this but now he was worrying.

It hadn't taken them long to find out the ghost was going after men that had high profile jobs and they always had a family and children. The men died violent deaths, their hearts ripped out of their chest. The ghost was so obvious. A woman. Haley Hotchner. She'd filed for divorce from her FBI agent husband and she had a son named Jack. She'd also been murdered and the paper's had said that it had been a man her husband had been hunting. A serial killer that targeted her as some revenge against the agent. It was reason enough in his books. And it had been big news.

But what if Sam was right? What if it had been too easy? They were long over due for an easy hunt, but when had they ever been that lucky?

* * *

"Thanks for this, Jessica," Hotch told her with a smile. He'd decided to go see Haley. While it may be late at night, he was going to the cemetery. It had taken him all day to decide that this was probably what he needed. He wasn't sure why a part of him didn't want to go. He was a profiler and couldn't even tell where his own feelings came from. He'd loved her. He'd never stopped. They'd been divorced but she still meant the world to him. And he still felt guilty. If only he'd been more cautious going into his apartment that night. If only he'd gotten to her faster... If only he'd killed the Boston Reaper sooner. 

"Sure, Aaron," she replied looking up from the couch where her and Jack watched an older Disney movie called Hercules. Jack was so into the movie he didn't even notice his dad leaving. 

He smiled before pulling on his coat and stepping out into the chilly winter air. He sat in his car for a few moments before turning on the engine. He didn't understand everything that was happening but he hoped this would help.

The highway was of course fairly deserted, being so late at night and he decided on taking the long way to the cemetery. He drove down the quiet roads, occasionally hearing sounds of crickets or wildlife. Despite the bitter cold, he'd rolled down his window. The air seemed to be soothing in a way and he felt all the more calm.

When he arrived, he hesitated. He hadn't visited Haley's grave since the day of the funeral. He forced a deep breath and grabbed the flowers he'd brought, Lilies, her favourite. She'd always found roses overrated...

The sight that fell upon him when he reached her grave sight shocked him. There were already people there, there was a huge pile of dirt from the grave they'd dug up. And they were pouring gasoline into her grave!

"FBI, FREEZE!" he yelled out, shocking the two intruders. The gas can tumbled into the hole, one of the men began dumping what he thought was salt into the grave while the other began trying to light his lighter, which was reluctant to light. He had to act fast.


	4. Chapter 4

"It's so strange. You went there at that specific time and they chose Haley's grave. What are the chances of that?" Dave said to Hotch as they sat in the bull pen, going over just a few of the many files they had on the Winchesters.

"Sam and Dean," Emily muttered under her breath. The names sounded familiar. Dave pushed over one of the huge abundance of files that was on the table. Her eyes widened as she saw the pictures. Memories of their crimes came rushing back to her and she shivered slightly. She was able to handle unsubs, but the sheer volume of victims and some of the bloodiest she'd ever seen...

"How many times have they faked their death?" Derek asked, looking over at the team hoping for a quick answer. But not even Reid answered him.

"They're good at it," Emily pointed out, pushing over the file with pictures of the body police had dug up in St Louis.

"I don't understand how. Plastic surgery, maybe?" Derek suggested, grimacing as he looked at the file. "How could they fake their deaths so many times?"

"There's no pattern. They always kill in different ways. Different victims. It just doesn't make sense," Reid said, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion. "Sometimes there is evidence of sadism, but sometimes it seems ritualistic. Agent Henrickson was doing his best to catch them and ended up being killed along with a couple others in a police station after apparently apprehending the two brothers."

The team shared a look, if Reid was confused then they were definitely in trouble.

"Where's JJ?" Hotch suddenly asked, scanning for the familiar sight of the blonde.

"Trying to find a sitter for Henry," Rossi told him, shaking his head as he continued to read. It was confusing. The brothers clearly suffered from delusions, but it was difficult trying to figure out how it all fit together. Rossi felt like all the pieces were there, and yet... None of them fit together.

This answer satisfied Hotch and he resumed looking at the file. A chase had happened and he'd only managed to catch one brother. He'd thought this would be a small thing where he just called the police to handle it but once he'd realized it was Dean Winchester... He knew that this was something they'd have to deal with. It had taken all his self-control to not pummel him into the ground for touching Haley's grave. What were the chances of that? He goes to visit his dead wife's grave and Dean Winchester is there? Hotch reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

The team and him were looking over the file as he'd had no luck questioning Dean. It wasn't normally that they were stumped. They were building a profile, based on the behaviour he'd shown and how he treated his victims.

_"This isn't your fault, Dean," Emily had told him, forcing a look of sympathy into her eyes._

_"How is it not his fault? These woman are dead because of him," Hotch had responded, not even looking at the older Winchester brother._

_"Your dad brainwashed you," Emily said soothingly, ignoring Hotch's words._

_"Doesn't give him the right to take the lives of all those innocent people," Hotch snapped, shooting Emily a disgusted look._

_"He thought he was helping them," Emily argued, giving Dean a sympathetic smile._

_"By killing? That makes sense." Hotch snorted before glaring at their suspect._

_"I'm amused. I really am. You two put on a good show. But once you two are done putting on the good cop/bad cop act, I'd like a soda," Dean said smirking, leaning back in his chair._

_It bothered Hotch how comfortable he looked for someone in handcuffs. There wasn't a hint of worry on his face at all._

_"He's been in the hot seat before," Emily said trying to reassure after they walked out. "He has some experience with interrogations."_

_"We didn't get anything. Nothing. Not a single thing," Hotch said, his jaw clenched. This was personal for him, but he didn't want to show it. No words could describe how much it angered him that someone had disturbed Haley's grave. Most would think he'd take it in stride but this was the mother of his child. The woman he'd loved. He'd put her through hell when she was alive, couldn't she at least be left to rest in peace?_

Hotch sighed. This wasn't going anywhere. Emily had even gone in solo to try and gain his trust. A trust that wasn't easily gained. She'd had little success and it appeared they were still at square one, with no idea of how to progress.

* * *

He leaned back, sighing impatiently. Sam would find a way to get him out of here. He knew that. But he hoped he'd do it fast. This chair was getting uncomfortable. It seemed the FBI were going well out of their way to make sure he remained in their custody.

His feet were handcuffed to the bottom of the chair and his hands handcuffed to each arm rest. He could already hear Sam's voice. _"I told you so, Dean. It was too easy."_

Just their luck. They never even managed to burn the bones.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been waiting for them, but knew it must be over an hour. After all the Metallica songs he'd hummed from start to finish... He figured this was some FBI trick. Make him sweat? It definitely would not work.

It was a pathetic attempt. He knew Sam would somehow get him out. It was just a matter of time.

It was then that an older agent he hadn't seen before came in. The man looked him up and down, giving him a look of disgust before coming over to unlock his handcuffs so he could walk.

"Let's go," the man said gruffly.

"Where are we going? I heard there's a place a few blocks from here that has some great Bacon Cheeseburgers, let's go there." Dean almost laughed at the look he received.

"We're just moving you to another room."

"Does this one have pictures?"

He was ignored. He'd expected that. He sighed once the man turned around and the smile fell from his face. This was not what he'd had planned for the night.

* * *

_Oh great._ She hated being late, it made her feel so guilty but it'd been hard to find someone to watch Henry in the middle of the night. But Hotch's tone had been serious. It must be a bad one. Missing child? That was one of the main reasons they suddenly got called in as those cases were a top priority, and often time was especially critical. As a mom, it made her chest ache to even think about a missing child...

She shifted the car into park before she'd fully stopped. It was a good thing Will wasn't in the car with her, he always scolded her when she did that. It was bad for the car, and she knew it but she was rushing and hardly noticed as she did it.

JJ didn't waste any time dashing to the elevator in the underground parking lot to get to their floor. "I really hope I didn't hold them up," she said softly to herself. She had a bad feeling in her stomach.

It wasn't what she'd expected. Not even close.

The elevator seemed to take hours to get to their floor before she stepped off. That's when the sight shocked her. That's when she felt her heart plummet. And that's when she nearly dropped her purse in surprise and confusion.

He was right there. In front of her. Being directed by David Rossi.

"Dean?" she asked, without thinking.

He turned his head to look at her, a relief registering on his face. "JJ," he said smiling his first real smile all night.

JJ was about to say more when suddenly she realized her team was staring at her. Her expression fell. How was she going to explain this one? Her heart sank when she saw the look that her Unit Chief was giving her. They were all giving it to her. _Oh crap._

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a shorter one, but I am so excited with where this is all going! 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments, kudos, bookmarks and etc. They are all so appreciated. <3

"I told you I don't know," JJ snapped, turning away from Hotch. Somehow she managed to stop the angry tears that threatened to flow. Being in an interrogation room wasn't unfamiliar to her, but being on this side of it?

"JJ, how do you know the Winchesters? Do you just know Dean? Have you known where they have been?" Hotch pleaded. This was a worst case scenario. He hadn't seen it coming. Not at all. Their own JJ, being associated with Sam and Dean Winchester? His heart hammered nervously. He did not know how long he could keep this under wraps. Had any other agents overheard? How much time did he have if one of them spilled? He still hadn't decided what to do with this, though it largely depended on what she told him.

"I'm not answering any more questions," JJ said in a softer tone. One that tugged at Hotch's heart. The expression on her face pained him. He didn't like being in this position. But now that it was known that JJ knew Dean they had no idea how much longer they would have the case.

JJ leaned back on the chair, her eyes flashing several different emotions at once. "I'm sorry," she mumbled looking down at the table. Meeting his eyes just made her feel guilty. How could she explain to their Unit Chief that the Winchester's were the good guys? That they'd saved her life? That monsters were real? There were no words. No words that could make any of her team believe it. They would think she was crazy. She would lose her job. Her heart sunk. If she didn't have an explanation, her job was as good as lost... She could possibly end up in prison.

How could she explain that the reason she knew Dean was because he and his father had saved her life a few years back? And that she'd since stayed in touch with Dean every now and then. It wouldn't fly well with the team. In fact, she'd expect they'd put her in a psych ward. He wouldn't understand. He wouldn't accept her explanation. And this was hard. She was being forced to lie to someone she greatly expected.

How could she tell him all those creatures in the dark, the creatures of your nightmares actually existed?

She couldn't, and she felt helpless because she did not know what to do.

* * *

"How do you know her?" Emily asked, now sitting in front of Dean. Her head was a mess as she desperately tried to find a reasonable explanation that did not mean JJ was involved with known criminals. Not just known criminals... Two of the most wanted men in America.

"Who? JJ?" Dean responded, tilting his head to the side. He knew he was playing it dumb, but he felt guilty. He really hoped JJ was able to talk her way out of this. It'd be better if he didn't say any thing. That way she could say what she wanted...

"Agent Jareau," Emily corrected before nodding her head.

"That's really none of your business, now is it?"

"On the contrary, it is very much our business," David Rossi said as he opened the door to walk in. He refused to look at Dean. He loathed men like him. Men that killed solely for their own pleasure. The mockery he often saw on Dean's interview videos, and that he'd witnessed left him suspecting that he did not have delusions and was trying to set up his defense.

"Why are you in Quantico? Was it to see JJ?" Emily demanded, her anger at the situation nearly making her fall out of character. She was supposed to be playing good cop, though a part of her realized it was pointless. He saw right through the act.

"No. I'm here to stop a killing ghost actually," Dean said casually, leaning back in his chair again. What was the use? They already thought he was a psychotic killer. They may as well think he was crazy, too.

"Enough," Rossi said suddenly, slamming his hands down on the table.

Dean gave him a quick look before he raised his eyebrows and laughed. "You want to know why you don't believe me? Why you refuse to accept the truth that is so obviously right in front of you?"

"Enlighten us," Emily said in a tone of forced sweetness. Her eyes flashed in anger. Her friend was in trouble. What was JJ hiding? How could she protect her? Though she tried not to show it, she was terrified her friend would not only lose her job, but be behind bars.

"Because you don't want to believe it. You want to believe you can solve everything. That you can stop everything. But let me tell you this," Dean whispered as he leaned over the table, "there are things in the dark. Things that would take your children, rip your hearts out and torture you just to hear you cry. There are things out there that are truly evil."

"You're right," Dave said, looking the older Winchester up and down. "And you're one of them."

Shaking his head angrily, Dean leaned back. They were sitting ducks in there. Him and Sam were being hunted by demons that were very angry with them. And here he was trapped in an interrogation room where he couldn't properly defend himself. He wondered if the FBI would believe him when they were all being tortured and murdered.

"You don't know anything about me," Dean said, his jaw clenching. He closed his eyes, pleading that Sammy would make it there soon. Or find some way to get him away from the FBI.

"Don't I? Dean Winchester, brainwashed by his Dad whom also murdered countless-"

"Shut up!" Dean snapped, losing all composure. "Don't. Don't talk about my father. You have no right."

"Do you know how many unsubs we come across with daddy issues?" Emily asked, not giving Dean a glance. Something felt wrong about this but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The good cop routine did no good, and maybe getting a rise out of him was the best way to rattle information loose.

* * *

"This doesn't line up." Spencer Reid set the black marker down and began to pace the room. His brain was a scrambled mess of thoughts as he tried to put any of the many pieces together.

"How?" Derek asked, leaning back in his chair. This was spinning out of control.

"The Winchesters are always spotted in town after the murders start. We have a cop claiming Dean saved her life. We have a witness from the bank robbery claiming Dean saved hers. We have his corpse in the ground. It's just not lining up," Reid said his tone taking on that of a frustrated one.

"You're right. It doesn't make sense. We know that. But he's our guy," Morgan insisted, his jaw twitching in anger. "He's a monster."

"He doesn't stick with the same victims. He's all over the map. I get that he's our guy but I don't understand him," Reid said, a bemused expression on his face. It wasn't often he was stumped. And he was very stumped this time.

Garcia tapped her pen against the desk in some sort of rhythm. This all sounded so familiar. She was experiencing some extreme deja vu and didn't understand why. Her heart felt like it was in pieces as she thought about her poor JJ being interrogated by Hotch. The second she'd heard about that, she knew she had to be with everyone else to ensure she didn't miss any new information. It was strangely as if she'd heard this all before. It wasn't a previous case... She knew that. And that's when it hit her.

Flying up to her feet, her pink heels clicking along the floor, she bolted out of the room, ignoring Morgan's voice calling after her. She knew where she'd heard all this before. It all made sense. But was it real? It surely couldn't be real. The stories, they weren't coincidence. Maybe the author just heard the stories on the news and gave it a twist. But still, she had to get her books...

The team had to know about the stories about the boys, whether they were fiction or not.


	6. Chapter 6

"What is this Garcia?" Hotch asked, clearly confused as he examined a battered copy of one of the Supernatural books. The cover showed a woman in a white dress standing on the side of the road. "A woman in white?" he wondered aloud as he read over the summary on the back.

"Creepy looking," Morgan added.

"What is the meaning of this?" Hotch said now, his brows furrowing in confusion. He tried to hold it back, but he felt a twinge of annoyance. What could possibly be important about these fiction books?

"It's them, sir," she said, wishing she'd taken the time to think about how she was going to explain this to her Unit Chief. This certainly wasn't like any strange information she'd given the team before. It was Sam and Dean Winchester... _Sam and Dean._ Her Sam and Dean. The Sam and Dean she read every night, keeping the books close to her like they'd protect her. Why hadn't she seen the connection with this case before? It was a well known case, and now, all she could do was feel sick. Her _heroes,_ weren't heroes at all. They were psychopaths. Murders. Disgusting, wastes of oxygen. The second this case was over, and there was no longer a need for those books, they would be burned. That was for damn sure.

"Them?"

"Them as in Sam and Dean Winchester."

"I'm lost," Rossi said, reaching to take another book from the pile Penelope had brought in.

"These books. They are about Sam and Dean Winchester."

"Like one of those books people write about serial killers?" Emily piped in, her eyes flickering over to Rossi.

"Sort of," Garcia broke off, taking a step back as she spotted Reid flipping through pages. She did recall hearing that he could read 20,000 words a minute.

"It's a fictional story based on their life," he said, looking up for a brief second. "It appears the father is mentioned. It says here that the mother was killed. Do you have that on record Garcia?"

"Yes, that, but all the victims names in the stories match missing persons records. I did some cross checking. There's some victims that we don't even have on record. And in the books, instead of them being the killers, they're the heroes." She stopped to take a breath. Most of the team were looking at her in confusion, aside from Reid who was already nearly done the first one. Turning the pages was mostly what was slowing him down.

"Interesting," Emily said, her voice trailing off. She shook her head. After all the work Agent Henrickson had done on the case, they hadn't come across these before?

"You think this author was in contact with the boys?" Aaron asked, trying to fight back the feeling of aggravation he felt when he thought about the Winchesters.

"At the very least, he's very knowledgeable," Rossi interjected. "It's possible he knows more. We should get in contact with him."

"Garcia, do you know how to find this Carver Edlund?"

"Of course!" she said, as if she was offended that her boss even asked. "For starters, that's a pen name. His real name is Chuck Shurley." She blushed slightly, remembering the fan conventions she'd gone to about the Supernatural books.

"I need you to get on that," Hotch said examining a book with a clown on the front. It seemed to happen every time he thought this case could not get anymore strange...

* * *

"Have you seen these before?" Hotch demanded, sliding one of the books across the table.

JJ's jaw clenched. Her entire body hurt from tension and stress. Trying to ignore the tears that wanted to spill, she glanced at the book on the table. Despite her anxiety, she almost laughed. Dean hated those books, and a part of her wished she could see what happened when he was approached with them.

"Yes," she said softly. "Hotch -"

"JJ, I need you to start talking to me. I cannot even begin to understand what is going on. Is a reasonable explanation even possible? Dean is a known fugitive and murderer."

"I don't know what to say right now," JJ said. The truth was not possible. She could visibly see the stress on Hotch's face. She longed to say something. Anything that would make him look at her with respect again.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep this in our team, JJ," he said. "If this gets taken out of my hands..."

"I know," JJ said. "I understand."

"Do you?" he asked, reaching to grab the book. "What can you tell me about these books?"

JJ froze. What could she tell him? If she told him the truth, he would never believe her. She'd be sent for a psych evaluation. On the plus side, that might mean her team wouldn't resent her, but the thoughts of the pitying looks were just as bad. And Henry... Not telling him anything could mean she went to prison for any number of charges. It was too late to pretend she didn't know he was a wanted man, and who would buy that anyway?

"JJ -" Hotch said before being cut off by the commotion outside.

"He's gone!"

Stepping out of the room, Hotch immediately went towards the interrogation room where Dean Winchester was and had a sinking feeling, they couldn't mean Dean, could they? Sure enough, the room was empty. A string of curses left his lips before he managed to ground himself.

"What happened?" Hotch demanded of the first agent he saw.

"I-I don't know. I don't know." The agent's face was pale and stunned, as if he'd seen a ghost.

"A man, in a trench coat," another agent said, his face also wearing the same shocked expression. Both men looked a mess, wide eyed and were losing their composure.

At this point, Rossi and Emily had caught up to Hotch. "What's going on?" Emily asked, her brows narrowing in confusion.

"A man in a trench coat?" Hotch pressed the agent, ignoring Emily's question.

"A man in a trench coat just appeared. We went to open the door but there was a flash of white light and... And they both disappeared."

"Who?" Emily glanced back and forth between Hotch and the young agent. "Dean Winchester? He's gone? And what do you mean disappeared?"

"I mean vanished, into thin air."

"That's not possible," Reid said now running up to the scene. "Has anyone checked on JJ?"

There was no verbal answer, but Hotch began to run down the hall. He prayed she hadn't left with them, though he didn't buy this 'vanished' theory. That didn't happen. Obviously the agents had slacked off and hadn't kept an eye on the older Winchester brother. But if JJ had gone with them... He couldn't protect her. He didn't want her to be in more trouble.

Relief was what he felt when he ran in through the door to see her still sitting at the table, her head in her hands. "JJ?" he said out of breath.

"Hotch? What's wrong?" JJ asked, unable to meet his eyes. She didn't want to see the disappointed probing look he was giving her.

"Oh, you're still here," Reid added, having finally caught up to his boss. He tried to catch JJ's eye, to somehow let her know that he was her friend, that he wanted to help, to understand... That he wasn't angry with her. She wouldn't look at him though.

"He's gone isn't he?" JJ shook her head. That was to be expected. Still, she didn't look up, despite the fact that she could feel Hotch's stoic gaze on her.

"Do you know how he escaped?" Hotch whispered, his voice ragged as he felt a sting of betrayal. Had JJ been helping these men? Had she done it in the right state of mind, or had they manipulated her? She was strong willed, her mind was strong. How could anyone manipulate her..? It happened. He knew that. Being strong willed didn't mean it was impossible. He couldn't think about it right now. Dean Winchester was gone, and the idea that one of his own agents was helping him was too much.

Hotch's question was interrupted a loud yelp... Reid's yelp. For now, beside JJ, out of thin air, was another man. This man wore a long, tannish brown trench coat, and he tilted his head to the side curiously. He had short brown hair and intense eyes.

 _A man in a trench coat._ Hotch didn't hesitate, and before the stranger had a chance to move, he had his gun on him. "Who are you?"

"Castiel. I'm an Angel of the Lord," Castiel said, examining the unit chief with growing interest. His facial expression remained smooth, he didn't flinch at the tone nor did he try to understand the confusion on the faces around him.

"Put your hands in the air." The tone was sharp, demanding, angry even. Even the clueless angel was able to pick up on the tone.

"I'm sorry." Castiel turned to the young blonde Agent. "Dean says I am to retrieve you."

"Don't move," Emily snapped, now entering from behind Reid.

There was no fear, Hotch noted. There were four guns on this man and he didn't seem to care. And where on earth had he come from? His head was reeling from everything.

"I mean it! Don't move."

There was no response on the angel's part as he reached forward to touch JJ's arm.

"Wait! It'll be worse for me to leave. I can't run, I have to face this," she insisted, pleading with Castiel with her eyes. Their blues met, but no sign of understanding came from the angel. Dean had told him to get her, and that's what he had to do.

"Don't you touch her," Hotch said, his tone both forceful and calm.

There hadn't been time to fire as JJ and the man in the trench coat disappeared into the white light.

 _Huh,_ Hotch thought. Maybe those agents hadn't slacked off after all... His thought was stopped short by the hot, white splash of anger he felt.

No words were spoken as the team exchanged glances. What had happened? Their voices left them as they all shakily holstered their weapons.

"What did I miss?" Derek asked, approaching the door. "Dean Winchester is gone? I just checked. And is JJ okay? What's going on?"

"I don't know," Emily admitted, her eyes surveying the scene before her. "I-I just don't know."


End file.
